


Euphoria

by BrightneeBee



Category: Captain America (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Muggle, Asgard, BAMF Darcy Lewis, BAMF Hermione Granger, Battle, Biting, Cosmic Magic, Dom Loki (Marvel), Dom/sub Undertones, Elemental Magic, Expanding Boundaries, F/M, Graphic Description, Immortal Hermione Granger, Light Dom/sub, Major Character Undeath, Metaphysics, Midgard, Multi, Mystic Romance, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Loki (Marvel), Protective Thor (Marvel), Romantic Tension, Rope Bondage, Rough Body Play, Rough Sex, Scratching, Sexual Tension, Smut, Spanking, Sub Hermione Granger, Testing limits, Thor (Marvel) is Not Stupid, Top Thor (Marvel), Triad - Freeform, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Various Forms of Magic, Violence, mind healing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:28:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22569406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrightneeBee/pseuds/BrightneeBee
Summary: Passing through the Veil was indescribable. It was like slipping through the surface of twisting pool of water, currents of frigid cold and tropical warmth trapped in a constant battle, incapable of dispersing. Pulled to and fro, the soul is blinded between golden light and incomprehensible darkness. The only sound is the slowing beat of a heart, ticking away until the soul is sucked through the void, unable to return.Yet...Hermione did return.Unfortunately, magic requires balance, and lashes out in unexpected ways. Perhaps it forces Fate's hand? Or throws Fate into a spiral? Or, perhaps...Perhaps Hermione was meant for more than a mere mortal could possibly understand?
Relationships: Darcy Lewis/Sam Wilson, Hermione Granger/Loki (Marvel), Hermione Granger/Loki (Marvel)/Thor (Marvel), Hermione Granger/Thor (Marvel), James "Bucky" Barnes/Natasha Romanov, Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Wanda Maximoff/Vision
Comments: 31
Kudos: 273





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This is my first attempt at a HP/MARVEL crossover fic. I'm mostly writing it freeform, and there really isn't an outline of what's going to happen further down the line. I usually don't post until I'm well ahead or halfway through writing a fic, so I'm uploading the first 4 chapters, and will try update on a regular basis as I continue moving forward/ahead of what is actually online. 
> 
> If you enjoy this fic, feel free to comment. If you hate it, feel free to comment. If you have questions, drop a line. 
> 
> Happy Reading!  
> No Regrets!

****

**Prologue**

2004

Hermione took one last look around her now empty room in Grimmauld Place, remembering every single moment she ever spent in the house from the age of fifteen to present. So many memories, bad and good, were linked to the ancestral home of the Black family. Where once it had been cold, dark, and unwelcoming, as well as dangerous, it was now warm and familial. 

_ Home _ , she thought. 

The floorboards were still the original dark wood, stripped and polished to a gleam in the morning light. The walls had been ripped down to the bones of the structure, new walls erected and painted with happy colors: pale yellows, soothing blues, calming greys. There were framed photographs everywhere - lining the hallways and propped on any available surface. There were always fresh flowers in every room, warm rugs on every floor, inviting sheets on every bed. The house smelt like a magical, childhood home should, just as Harry and Ginny had intended. 

“Are you sure you won’t stay, Hermione?” asked Ginny from the doorway, expression concerned as she absentmindedly rubbed the small curve of her stomach. “It’s only been a year since the accident, and you’re still struggling to cope. You haven’t fully recovered, yet.” 

Hermione sighed, “I know, Gin, but I have a chance to start fresh. Kingsley said that MACUSA has a division working exclusively on the Veil, its effects and such. They said they could help me, and maybe help wake Sirius. Besides, my parents moved to Maryland. They may not remember me, but I’d like to be close to them. And Crooks will be with me. I won’t be alone.”

“I understand,” replied Ginny, still sad. “Harry and I are just worried. Everyone is, to be honest. You’re family.”

“I don’t want to go, either, but I feel like this is something I need to do,” said Hermione, offering her pregnant friend a strained smile. “I do plan on coming back for the birth of my godson, though. I promise.”

“Good, because I was going to have Harry and Ron drag you back kicking and screaming,” smirked Ginny, no usual ferocity to her threat. “Just make sure to send us updates, alright? We’ll pay for the international floo, no hesitation.”

Wiping the beginnings of tears from her eyes, Hermione nodded and forced another smile. A swish of her wand, and everything shrunk and flew into her suitcase. The International Floo wasn’t scheduled for another hour, but she knew there were others downstairs vying to change her mind before she left. Of course, it would all end in tearful farewells, since Hermione had already made the decision to leave. 

There were too many memories clouding her fragile mind. The war had been over for years, but it was still fresh, as if it were only yesterday, and her nightmares were worse than before. She needed a new start. She needed to be  _ away _ . At least for a little while. 

Straightening her shoulders, Hermione called on her Gryffindor courage and followed Ginny down to the main room, where everyone was waiting. She continued to force a smile, and quell concerns, and embraced each person tightly, as if memorizing every little detail that made them unique to her. It was difficult to part ways, but she assured them all -  _ her family  _ \- that she would be a frequent visitor, once she was well enough. 

Harry and Ron were the ones to escort her to the Ministry, and the last faces she saw before green flames obscured her vision, engulfed around her, and she disappeared in a whirlwind of flame and soot to a new life…. 

  
  



	2. Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time jump...

**Chapter** **One**

  
  
  


**2014, Early Summer.**

**Washington, D.C.**

It was a gorgeous morning. The sun was just rising when Hermione met Sam at their usual rendezvous spot before their run. He was already stretching, dark shorts, and a grey jumper to keep warm against the slight chill in the air. Hermione was all bundled up in form-fitting leggings in black, a red long-sleeved thermal, and a fitted jacket zipped up to her chin. Her riotous curls, now so long they brushed her elbows when she walked, were piled atop her head in a messy bun secured by multiple hair-ties to keep most of it from escaping. There were still several rebellious curls around her face that refused to be tame, but she was used to it. 

“No coffee, Granger?” asked Sam, teasingly, as she started her own warm-up stretches. “And I thought we were friends.” 

She laughed, bending to and fro, twisting around until her legs and back were loose, relaxed. “I thought we were having breakfast after?” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled with a snort. “I even bought tea, since you’re such a snob.” 

“I am not a snob,” Hermione scoffed, chin jutting out in defiance. “You Americans simply have no taste.” 

“Sure.” 

They started in a slow jog down a path towards the Tidal Basin, working up to a steady pace and trading small talk. Hermione wasn’t able to run every morning with the muggle working at Veteran Affairs in the area due to her previous apprenticeships, but now that she was completely done with her training programs, she was free in the early mornings. It was like a holiday, while she reviewed her options; MACUSA, the local wizarding hospital, private practice, etcetera. She could even apply for a grant to do research into Veils and time theories. Of course, it was her hobby interest, not what she had spent a decade undergoing multiple apprenticeships to achieve - what she wanted to do. 

“On your left!” called a man, sprinting past them at an ungodly speed. 

Hermione huffed but continued in step with Sam. 

“Now that you graduated,” Sam panted, breathing evenly. “What do you plan on doing with all those degrees?” 

Hermione huffed again, “I’m unsure. There’s government work or a specialty clinic. I could apply for a grant and do some research… astrophysics, or like, the God particle - whatever it’s called, so on…All I know is I want to help people like me - like us.”

“I know the VA is need of psychologists,” offered Sam, leaning into a turn as they neared the Lincoln Memorial. “You could do a lot of good for a lot of people.” 

“I’ll have to think about -”

“On your left!” 

The same man from before sprinted past them again, and Hermione growled at the ease in which he was running, so fast and not breaking a sweat. 

“Uh-huh,” Sam panted. “On our left. Got it.” 

“What the bloody hell,” grumbled Hermione, chest growing tight. She was really out of shape for someone who won a war at the tender age of eighteen. “It’s so unfair. He’s not even breaking a sweat.” 

Sam laughed, breathy, but far more fit than Hermione. 

They fell into a comfortable silence, the only sound that of their breathing and their shoes against the pavement. Every so often one or the other would start a short conversation, but eventually, it was all Hermione could do to keep pace. The minutes ticked by, the two making a decent amount of progress along their usual route, lapped by the sprinting madman twice more before they reached the Reflective Pool in front of the Washington Memorial. 

Hermione was irritated by the man, Sam was partially amused, but also somewhat intrigued, as well as being a touch annoyed. Hermione could just tell. They had been friends since she first moved to the area almost a year prior to a double apprenticeship with a witch that had worked as a liaison between MACUSA and a counter-terrorism organization in the muggle world. Hermione had managed to complete a two-year double-apprenticeship in fourteen months, having already done much of the groundwork leading up to it in the years prior. 

How they met had been bland. Hermione had seen a flyer at the local library for a support group, and Sam Wilson happened to be running it. She had attended for a few weeks, just listening and getting the feel of the group, the people, and so on. When she was confident enough, she finally attempted to speak, glossing over mostly everything she had been through, but thanking everyone who had shared for showing such courage, and that she didn’t feel so isolated and alone. Sam had tried to chat her up after, and almost keeled over at her quick, witty, but polite, rejection. The friendship that followed had flowed easily between them, and he had started inviting her to run with him in the early mornings, knowing she still suffered nightmares and only managed a brief few hours each night. Now that she wasn’t required to be at Master Grimwald’s beck and call, or training, or studying, she was able to make the runs a daily occurrence. 

The sun was out and it was growing warmer when they heard the rapid slaps of feet hitting the pavement from behind them, growing louder as each second passed. Hermione picked up the pace, trying to sprint so the man couldn’t pass her, but her chest was tight and every breath was punctuated by a sharp pain in her lungs. So, she decided to trip the man, because that would be satisfying, as well. 

Sam had done the same thing, sprinting ahead, while exclaiming, “Don’t say it. Don’t you dare say it!” 

Hermione could almost see the grin on the man’s face as he passed them, yelling out, “On your left!” 

“Come on!” exclaimed Sam, slowing down since he was unable to outrun the man, while Hermione palmed the tip of her wand hiding - disillusioned - under her sleeves and twisted her wrist ever so slightly in the bloke’s direction, smirking when he tripped over his own feet and fell sideways into the Reflective Pool. “Aha!”

Sam barked out a laugh, slowing down with Hermione until they were jogging in place, looking down at the man standing up out of the water. With a smirk, Hermione addressed him, ignoring the way his workout attire clung to every ridge of golden muscle, “On your left.” 

And she continued on the jog, smug, while Sam fought not to laugh so hard, as well as try to keep up with her since he was laughing. Of course, the feeling of triumph was short-lived, as the bloke shook it off again, passing them with merely a chuckle. They didn’t see him again until they returned to their starting point, collapsing under a tree. 

Of course, Sam was sitting upright, resting against the trunk, but Hermione had sunk to her knees, first, and then fell backward, laying out on her back, groaning between hard gasps for breath. 

“By the Gods, I want pancakes!” yelled Hermione, arms, and legs incapable of moving, but she was starving and thirsty. “With chocolate chips!” 

“Need a medic?” came that familiar voice - that man that had super sprinted past them several times. He said it with a light chuckle, not even out of breath, and already completely dry. Not a sweat stain in sight. 

Hermione hated how perfect he was, and let her head fall back with a thud against the grass, while Sam addressed him. 

“We need a new set of lungs, I think,” Sam laughed, panting as he interacted with the Adonis with golden hair. “Dude, you just ran like 13 miles in 30 minutes.” 

Hermione wiggled, flopping around until she could simply turn her head and look up, instead of lifting her head to engage. Even that was a triumphant feat, having been unable to run with Sam for a month. She despised how weak she felt after barely five miles of what should have been an easy jog. 

The man merely shrugged with an attractive smile, and Hermione wanted to slap it off his face when he joked, “Guess I got a late start.” 

“Really? You should be ashamed of yourself. You should take another lap,” Sam said, following a breathy chuckle. He looked at Hermione, catching her rolling her eyes, and then looked back up at the man, “Did you just take it? I assume you just took it.” 

Hermione wheezed a laugh, wincing at the pain in her lungs and returned to groaning, while the man nodded to Sam, asking, “What unit you with?” 

“58th Pararescue, but now I’m working down at the VA,” answered Sam, conversationally offering his hand for a shake. “Sam Wilson.” 

“Steve Rogers,” replied the man, and it all clicked into place as he helped Sam to his feet. 

“I kind of put that together,” said Sam, still panting as he tried to help Hermione to her feet, and she refused, but they managed to get her upright. “Must have freaked you out, coming home after the whole defrosting thing.”

Steve sighed, offering a helping hand to get Hermione to her feet, which she slapped away with a grumble of not being an invalid, “Takes some getting used to… It’s good to meet you, Sam… Ma’am.” 

He turned to leave, but Hermione decided to give him the benefit of the doubt, despite how annoying he had been while she attempted to catch her breath, “It’s your bed, right?” 

“What’s that, ma’am?” Steve asked, turning back to face them. 

“Bloody hell, just call me Hermione… I’m not that old,” Hermione bent forward, tapping Sam in, because bloody hell she couldn’t fucking  _ breathe. _

“Your bed, it’s too soft,” Sam replied, answering for Hermione while he patted her on the back. “When I was over there, I’d sleep on the ground, use rocks as pillows, like a caveman. Now I’m home, lying in my bed, and it’s like…” 

Steve found the word for him, “Lying on a marshmallow. Feels like I’m gonna sink right to the floor… How long?” 

“Two tours,” said Sam. “You must miss the good old days, huh?” 

“Well, things aren’t so bad,” answered Steve, with another nonchalant shrug. “Food’s a lot better - we used to boil everything. No polio is good. Internet. So helpful. I’ve been reading that a lot trying to catch up.” 

Hermione wheezed, laughing.  _ Alright, he’s sort of funny… _

“Marvin Gaye, 1972,  _ Trouble Man _ soundtrack,” said Sam, after a pause to consider his thoughts. “Everything you missed jammed into one album.” 

Steve had already pulled out a soggy notepad and began jotting it down, “I’ll put it on the list.” 

Of course, being Captain bloody America, his mobile started to vibrate and ring, signaling a message, Hermione assumed. He looked at it, and she was amazed that it still worked after she had caused him to fall into the pool of water at the Washington Memorial. Then she realized he worked for SHIELD, which she wasn’t supposed to know about, but her recent double-apprenticeship had delved into the organization in depth. 

Hermione had also seen a specialist via the organization by Agent escort in order to stabilize the fluctuations in her magical core following her accident, or incident. 

“Alright, Sam. Hermione. Duty calls,” said Steve, offering his hand to shake in farewell. “Thanks for the run. If that’s what you want to call running.” 

“Oh, that’s how it is?” asked Sam, chuckling, while Hermione grumbled about tripping the bloke again just for funsies. 

Steve laughed, amused at his own joke, “Oh, that’s how it is.” 

“Okay,” replied Sam, watching Steve shake Hermione’s limp hand. “Any time you want to stop by the VA, make me look awesome in front of the girl at the front desk, just let me know.”

Steve was already backing away as a loud sports car pulled up to the curb, “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

Hermione paid attention when the passenger window rolled down, and she was struck by a familiar face. A stunning woman with pale skin and red hair, plump lips, and an ever-present smug smirk, she addressed them from the driver’s seat, “Hey. Anyone know where the Smithsonian is? I’m here to pick up a fossil.” 

“That’s hilarious,” deadpanned Steve, getting into the car. 

Hermione, of course, managed three strong steps to the side, while Sam crouched to get a better look at the driver. He was already sending the woman an interested look, “How you doing?” 

“Hey,” the red-head replied, catching sight of Hermione. She smiled, nodding in the petite woman’s direction, “Hey, Granger. Looking the same.” 

“Yep,” wheezed Hermione, hands on her hips. “Still not funny, Romanov.” 

“The team could use someone with your skills,” said Romanov, amused at Sam and Steve’s confused expressions. “I’ll be in touch.” 

Hermione shrugged, “Always with the threats–Blimey, I’m dying. I need water and pancakes.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” muttered Sam, letting her lean against him. “Nice ride, Cap.” 

“Can’t run everywhere,” shrugged Steve. Always shrugging casually. Hermione wanted to gag as Sam secretly fangirled. 

Romanov drove off, and Sam just watched, shaking his head, “No, you can’t…” 

“You’re in love,” laughed Hermione, letting Sam guide her to his truck. “Cap and Sam, sitting in a tree - Oi! Cheating!” 

He laughed, leaving her to hobble on her own, jogging ahead with a glint of mischief. 

_ Oh, I’m going to bloody get him. _


End file.
